


Get it OFF me!

by millygal



Series: My Prompts Table [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Gen, M/M, Multi, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 21:11:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11112960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: Crowley’s eyes close and his cheeks flame. “A little privacy?”





	Get it OFF me!

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote myself my own prompts table and this is my third one - Stop trying to hug me, it's offputting. - SILLINESS. Thank you to masja_17 for the fast and efficient beta <3

A sound like rolling thunder crashing overhead makes several patrons of the Corner Bar and Grill duck and stare out of the windows, only to find a cloudless crystalline blue sky staring back at them.

The noise increases in intensity and volume until the entire bar, including Sam and Dean Winchester, is on it’s feet and staring out of the windows.

The sun continues to shine bright and constant and no one can work out what the hell’s going on until the double doors smash inwards, leaving dents and scratches in the plaster on either side of them and little flakes of aubergine coloured paint fluttering delicately to the floor.

“MOOSE, SQUIRREL!”

Eclipsed by the sun which is casting long shadows across his face, stands a man who’s quite clearly in more than a little distress.

Sam leaps across two tables in an effort to get to Crowley who’s violently shaking his left leg and smacking wildly at something clinging to his knee and giggling.

Dean follows swiftly behind, walking through the path that the patrons make for him as they all back against the walls of the bar.

“Dude! What the fu - hell?!”

Continuing to screech and pay no attention to Sam who’s trying to grab a hold of his flailing arms and Dean who’s staring dumbfounded at the thing attached to the Demon’s ankle, Crowley growls and whips his leg up and down. “Get it OFF!”

Crowley’s belt is almost past the point of no return and if the sniggering tan trench coat covered lump hanging onto the demon’s trousers for dear life doesn’t stop tugging and yanking, the entire bar’s going to be treated to an impromptu hell-fire strip-tease. “PLEASE! Make it stop.”

Sam finally catches Crowley’s wrists in his hands and pulls, forcing him to look the taller man in the eye. “What _happened_?”

As Sam tries to get the truth out of Crowley, Dean crouches down next to Castiel who’s resolutely refusing to relinquish his hold on the Demon’s leg and laughing like a hyena. “Cas, buddy, what you doin’?”

“Playing with my friend, Crowley is my friend. He said we could play and then he tried to run away.”

Shaking his head and looking up at Crowley who’s practically whimpering, Dean raises an eyebrow and purses his lips. “What did _you_ do?”

“NOTHING.”

Sam tries really hard not to laugh at the sight of the ex King of Hell being mauled by an Angel of the Lord, but the rapidly rising redness in the Demon’s cheeks and Castiel’s continued happy babbling are causing involuntary lip twitches the Hunter can’t control. “O-o-okay, what exactly were you doing before **this** happened?”

Crowley hisses at Sam and points down at Cas who’s now petting the inside of the Demon’s thigh. “Seriously, make him stop, and DON’T laugh at me! We were just doing a spell to try and locate Lucifer’s Baby-Mama and boom - Crack Coated Castiel.”

Dean rises from the floor after patting a snorting Castiel on the head and stares at Crowley. “Wording?”

“What?!”

“WORDING of the spell, numbnuts.”

Sam steps up close to Dean and whispers in his ear whilst trying to ignore the rapidly raising voices of the bar patrons all beginning to crowd in behind them. “Maybe we should take this elsewhere, unless you wanna end up in the Enquirer this week?”

Dean peers past Sam’s face and spots several people pulling phones from their pockets, and nods. “Right, uhuh, okay let’s blow this joint.”

Grabbing Crowley by the elbow, Sam drags him backwards out of the bar with Dean following on, snorting at Castiel who’s duck waddling on his haunches but still refusing to let go of the Demon’s leg.

“Crowley, can you - “

“On it.”

Crowley clicks his fingers and all four of them land in the Bunker, breathless and spinning and trying not to lose their lunches.

Dean thumps down into the closest chair and belches like he’s going to throw up. “I fuckin’ HATE that!”

Sam shakes his head from side to side, trying to rid himself of the ringing in his ears. “Better than trying to fit those two in the car - oh!”

“MY CAR!”

Crowley shoves at Castiel’s head as the Angel begins to chew on the material of the Demon’s trousers. “The penis extention is in the garage. Don’t worry Dean, I’m not gonna leave your _Baby_ behind. Not worth the ear ache.”

Dean chooses to ignore Crowley’s sarcasm in favour of clicking a couple of pictures of Castiel gumming and licking the back of the Demon’s knee through cotton. “So, wording of the spell?”

Crowley tries to find a comfortable position to sit in at the table with Castiel still cleaving to his leg, eventually giving up and leaning precariously against the wall. “All we did was - oh, bollocks - ummmm, this _might_ be my fault.”

Sam snaps a few shots of his own and pointedly ignores Crowley’s hiss of displeasure before clicking his fingers and then crooking two at him.. “Come on, out with it.”

“ _Here we stand in supplication of the Gods, asking you to allow us our freedom to find that which stays hidden, repressed, and restrained._.”

Dean’s loud burst of laughter takes no one by surprise, and it’s Sam who finally manages to quiet his brother down with a stuttered reply to Crowley’s recited ritual. “Y-y-you asked for the ability to allow a repressed and restrained being freedom? Do you **know** a more repressed being than Castiel?!”

Crowley hangs his head and sighs. “How do we fix it?”

Dean snorts and chuckles at Castiel who’s now scratching absentmindedly at Crowley’s left knee and dropping gentle kisses all along the inside of his leg. “By the looks of _him_ I’m thinking letting him have what he’s been repressing the need for, would probably break the spell.”

Crowley’s eyes close and his cheeks flame. “A little privacy?”

Dean and Sam stand as one and walk towards the kitchen, with Dean throwing a parting shot over his shoulder. “Remember Crowley, no means no.”

“Git. Fuck off.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam pops the cap on a beer and hands it to Dean who’s trying not to feel too disturbed by the fact that their best friend has a secret need for a little Demon loving, which is when they hear a pained howl and a loud thud followed by strained voices.

“Crowley, would you please stop trying to hug me, it is very off-putting.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

“Why can I taste cotton?”

 

Fin.


End file.
